


My True Love Gabe to Me

by quicksilverdeancas (quicksilvermalec)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Christmas enthusiasm, Cute Gabriel, Cute Sam Winchester, Destiel: Winners of the Grossest Couple In History Award 10 Years Running, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eventual Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Fluff, Food Fights, Gabriel and Sam Winchester in Love, M/M, Minor Castiel/Dean Winchester, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining, POV Sam Winchester, Sabriel Secret Santa, Sam Winchester Loves Gabriel, Snow, enjoy, maybe 11 now o.O, this was fun to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21857611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilvermalec/pseuds/quicksilverdeancas
Summary: On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to meFive gold ringsorIn which Sam Winchester is annoyed, and pining, and cold, and covered in flour, and finally gets the greatest gift he ever could have asked for on Christmas morning. Not necessarily in that order.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel & Sam Winchester, Gabriel (Supernatural) & Everyone, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester & Everyone
Comments: 20
Kudos: 85





	My True Love Gabe to Me

**Author's Note:**

> My poor beautiful friend Addy had to drop out of this event at the last second for a family emergency. I won't share details of her personal life with all you perfect strangers - not my story to tell - but love, if you have need of four and a half thousand words of Sabriel fluff-angst, here you go. Happy Holidays. You're a wonderful person, and I hope this makes you happy.
> 
> Enjoy!

**December 1 st**

Dean is- Dean is jumping on his bed. Dean is jumping on Sam’s bed, holding his phone, which is connected to a Bluetooth speaker, blasting _All I Want for Christmas_ at maximum volume _._ And grinning. Like a maniac. And singing along. Like a dork.

How could Sam possibly be related to this idiot?

He grabs one of his pillows and smacks his brother in the chest with it before burrowing underneath the other one and hiding from the world. Dean resurfaces quickly, pauses his song (blessedly), and grabs Sam’s arm. “Sammy!” he’s shouting, and Sam has never wanted anything more than he wants to be dead right now. “Sammy, come on, I have to make you a Happy December breakfast.”

“Dean, there’s literally no reason for you to make a ‘Happy December breakfast’. You just want an excuse to cook.”

Dean nods excitedly. “Hell yeah I do! Now come on, get your overgrown Goliath ass downstairs so that I can make you food.”

Sam groans but does as he’s told, pushing himself out of bed as soon as Dean leaves the room (he sleeps naked, no way is Dean getting the covers off of him while he’s still in Sam’s bedroom) and forcing himself to forgo comfortable clothing – he does stare longingly at his pajama pants for a minute, though – in favor of his usual combination of tank top under t-shirt under flannel under jacket. And he makes his way downstairs.

“Heya there, Samsquatch,” Gabriel calls cheerfully from where he’s sitting with his feet up on the dining table, eating chocolate pie a la mode with whipped cream. (How he can stomach that for breakfast still mystifies Sam) “Sleep well, princess?”

Sam makes a show of pulling his middle finger out of his ‘bra strap’ and applying liberal amounts of ‘lipstick’ to his lips with it. Gabriel cracks up, and Sam hides his smile. He does like making the Trickster laugh.

He makes his way through the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bacon from where they’re cooling on the counter and receiving a punch in the shoulder in return as he goes. He holds it between his teeth as he opens the fridge with one hand and grabs a glass from the cupboard next to it with the other. He pours himself some orange juice and then tears into the meat with his teeth.

He settles down at his usual place beside the archangel who’s somehow managed to become a permanent fixture in their lives at the bunker and strikes up an idle conversation with him about a book he read about Grace the previous day. Cas, sitting across from Gabriel, has quite a few interesting insights, and it’s only a few minutes before Dean’s carrying plates of waffles and bacon into the kitchen, and Sam smiles gratefully up at his brother before he digs in.

Once the table’s been cleared, Dean announces, “I thought we’d get a tree today.”

“Doin’ it early this year?” Sam teases, grinning at his brother. Every year that they’d been on their own, when they actually had a place to decorate, Dean was so lazy they’d always ended up getting their tree a week or so before Christmas. December first was new, to say the least.

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean shoots back without heat. Cas looks ready to step in if they really go at it, but Sam just laughs.

“Jerk,” he mutters, then adds, “Christmas tree shopping sounds awesome. If we have time, we can even go get gifts for each other, too.”

“We won’t have time,” Dean tells him wisely.

(He’s right, of course. They do not have time.)

#~+~#

They don’t leave for the farm until just after 1, because _someone_ (coughGabrielcough) took about two hours to be composed enough to go. Which is ridiculous, because Gabriel can just snap himself up some clothes whenever he wants, he doesn’t have to take ten years to get ready and make everyone else wait for him.

Ah, well. Dean made a remark about Gabriel acting like a girl and Sam got to go on one of his feminist rants until Dean scoffed and walked away from him, so it was okay.

When they finally arrive, they hook themselves up with the complimentary hot chocolate that they always serve at those places, jump into one of those cart things, and drive off to the far reaches of the many acres of land reserved just for Christmas trees.

“So how tall we wanna go?” Dean asks as they climb out, Sam with the axe slung over his shoulder.

“I’m thinkin’ tall,” Sam suggests with a smirk in Gabriel’s direction. “I’m thinkin’ taller’n me tall.” And Gabriel- Gabriel honest-to-Chuck _flushes_ , ever so slightly, under the heat of Sam’s gaze. Sam stares at him in amazement, because _that_ can be summed up with one phrase. “Holy shit,” he whispers to himself before turning to his brother.

“I mean, we have the space for it, don’t we? Only problem would be getting it back to the bunker, although we do have angels who can do that for us.”

Gabriel, having regained his composure, smiles sweetly at them.

#~+~#

It takes Sam and Dean another half an hour to pick a tree, chop it down, get the angels to fly it back to the bunker, pay, grab another round of hot chocolate, and get in the car, and then the drive back home is forty-five minutes. Because of all of that, they don’t make it back to the bunker until 3:15 or so, by which time Castiel and Gabriel have already erected the tree in the spot they’d previously picked out and are now color-coding the month of December in their Biblical calendar (a joke gift from Dean that went right over Cas’ head, although he and Gabe got quite the shared-laughter bonding moment out of the way Cas so clearly didn’t understand it) with the various activities they’re planning to do on various days. They’re all spread out so as to be flexible in case they get hunts that go a little longer than expected.

Sam and Dean’s angels are nice like that.

(Oh, fuck. Cas has always been Dean’s, that much was clear from day 1, but the scary part is that Sam has started thinking of Gabriel as being _his_. That’s not good for him or his mental health, and it spells **DANGER** in big block letters across his life. He tries to heed the warnings, he really does, but… Gabriel’s perpetual sugar high and his… mostly… positive energy and his infectious sugary-sweet smile just get to him, warm up parts of him he’d forgotten existed, and eventually he is forced to realize that he was gone long before he ever had a chance to identify it. There’s no going back now.)

It’s mid-afternoon and none of them feels like doing anything, so they leave the eight-foot-tall tree alone, undecorated as it is, and collapse onto the two couches in the den. Unsurprisingly, Dean gets a faceful of black hair as an extremely cuddly Castiel presses himself against Dean’s side. Slightly more surprisingly, Sam gets a golden archangel’s head in his lap, and even more surprising is the way that Sam starts to card his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. However, what takes the cake is how _natural_ that feels.

Sam hates this feeling.

Dean selects a Christmas movie at random – they end up watching _The Holiday_ – and they all relax and allow themselves to enjoy the peace and serenity and Jack Black singing badly on screen.

Sam hates that feeling, but he loves this one. This is family and warmth and home, this is love and peace and happiness, and this is security like he’s never known. They’re a bit of a fucked-up family, but they’re a family nonetheless, and Sam wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He falls asleep on the couch.

\--

**December 5 th**

Sam pays his brother back in kind, and he justifies it by saying that Dean asked for this.

Dean wakes up to a pie in the face, and Sam knows he won’t stop bitching about a waste of perfectly good pie for several days. He could care less.

He lets Dean eat cherry pie for breakfast, and Gabe eats his chocolate pie for breakfast, and Sam has a donut because he kind of doesn’t care at this point, and Castiel doesn’t eat anything. Which disappoints his boyfriend greatly, but he keeps pointing out that _I do not need to eat, Dean._

And then at 10, Sam finds Dean’s Bluetooth speaker, connects it to his phone, and queues up a three-hour playlist of Christmas music on Spotify. “Hey, get your lazy asses in here, we got work to do!” he announces joyfully, grinning into the dining room. Dean snorts and pushes his chair back from the table.

“Fine, Sammy, if you’re gonna be like that. I’ll be right back with the lights and ornaments,” he shouts up before disappearing into the storage room.

Gabriel and Castiel join Sam soon after, helping him plug in the power strips and figure out where they want their miscellaneous decorations to go. When Dean returns, Sam smacks the ‘play’ button on his phone, and they start to dance around the common space to ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ as they wind the lights around the tree.

Sam ends up standing on a stepstool at the base of the tree while Gabriel goes up the stairs and stands right next to the top and Cas stands halfway up the stairwell. They pass the end of the string around, singing and grinning, and Dean ‘supervises’. Which, of course, is just a fancy way of saying he stands there, watches them, and drinks a Chuckdamn blueberry smoothie.

Then, when he wants to put the angel on top of the tree, Sam gleefully informs him that since he didn’t help, he doesn’t get to do that part. He bestows that honor upon Gabriel, who practically vaults over the railing to put the little bauble on top, clings to the branches of the tree (while Castiel holds it in place with a very unamused expression) as he plugs it into the strand of lights, and then drops right into Sam’s arms.

Sam grins and winks at him before depositing him on the floor.

_Rockin’ around  
The Christmas tree  
At the Christmas party hop_

Dean grabs Cas’ hand and drags him down the stairs to the place in the doorway where he’d fastened the mistletoe earlier.

_Mistletoe hung where you can see  
Every couple tries to stop_

He dips his boyfriend and kisses him loudly, and Sam scoffs and turns away, rolling his eyes. “Those two are gross,” Gabe murmurs to him, and he makes a noise of assent.

“They really are,” he agrees.

\--

**December 8 th**

Sam sneaks out for his morning run at four and when he’s done with his three miles he walks over to the Fred Meyer-slash-Starbucks that’s barely a block away. He spends several hours there, trying to figure out what the fuck to get his brother (who never wants anything) and two angels (who basically have everything) and feeling a little guilty that he’s paying for it all with stolen money.

He figures it out eventually, but by the time he gets back it’s almost nine o’ clock and – predictably – nobody’s awake yet. (Actually, he’s not quite sure that’s true. Cas is a bit of an early riser and even if he wasn’t, Dean’s probably gotten into his pants by now. Predictably, he supposes he should say, _Gabriel_ isn’t awake.)

He shoves the double-plastic-bagged gifts into a duffel bag that he then buries in the bottom of his closet to wrap later and decides to get started on making breakfast for everybody because, however much he loves his big brother, he really can’t cook for _shit_.

He spends a while staring at the pantry and then a while longer staring at the inside of the refrigerator before silently wishing he’d bought some ingredients when he went out. He’s just decided to make breakfast burritos (scrambled eggs, bacon, tons of cheese, secret sauce. They have all of those things. At least) when suddenly an archangel appears behind him.

“Whatcha doin’, Sammich?” Gabriel asks, far too loudly and cheerfully in comparison to his normal early-morning disposition. Sam jumps about ten feet.

When he calms his racing heartbeat, Sam replies, “I was about to make you some food. But now that you’ve scared the shit out of me, I think you can do it yourself.”

Gabriel looks at him evenly for a moment, then shrugs, snaps himself up the biggest, most phallic lollipop Sam has ever seen, and walks past him to sit at the table. “So you didn’t want my help with anything?” he asks.

Sam glances back at the pantry and something clicks.

_When did Dean buy frosting? And… woah, there’s a lot of stuff in there._

“Want to make Christmas cookies while our brothers try to buy gifts for each other and end up just screwing in the middle of a grocery store?” he suggests. Gabriel almost chokes on his lollipop, and Sam’s not going near that with a goddamn barge pole.

“I’m on board for Christmas cookies,” Gabe replies, deliberately and obviously avoiding the second half of Sam’s sentence. He jumps out of his chair and the lollipop disappears.

Sam starts to knead out the premade dough they had in the fridge while Gabriel goes to color the icing. They work in comfortable silence, weaving around each other in a well-coordinated dance like they’ve been doing this forever.

Sam is so fucked.

Once the dough is a flat sheet on the counter, he lets Gabriel take over so he can cut them out into festive Santa Claus and Christmas Tree shapes and Sam grabs the bag of flour to put it away and drops it. It kind of explodes, sending up a veritable mushroom cloud and lightly dusting Gabriel’s arm while somehow miraculously missing Sam. Gabriel doesn’t seem to find this acceptable and he reaches into the bag without looking away from his carefully oriented cookie cutter and flicks a little flour onto Sam’s hand. Sam laughs, _coats_ his hand in the stuff, and wipes it down Gabriel’s shirt.

That gets his attention. He grabs a handful and drops it on Sam’s head, coating his hair in white. Sam gives him a flour-ball to the face, which prompts Gabriel to leave white handprints all over Sam’s new shirt and then Sam picks up the bag and dumps it on Gabriel’s head.

Gabriel’s staring at him with this betrayed look that is, frankly, just absolutely _adorable_ , and Sam wants to kiss it off his face, which. Fuck. _FUCK._

He wasn’t supposed to do this, he tried _so hard_ not to do this. He’s so completely ass-fucked it wasn’t even funny.

He’s glad Dean cleared his throat when he did because if they’d been left alone for one more second Sam’s 100% sure he was going to kiss him. Archangel mojo be damned, Sam had been about to kiss that self-satisfied smirk right off of his face and accept his death with gladness.

“Havin’ fun, you two?” Dean asks, not concealing his laughter at all. Sam shrugs.

“I mean, yeah, it was pretty fun. Hey Gabe, stick those cookies in the oven and then we can watch another Christmas movie.”

Gabriel grins and taps him on the shoulder. He turns. “Yeah?”

“We should probably shower and change first,” he mutters, and Sam tries so hard not to flush because that sounds like he means _together_ and oh, shit, is he in deep.

“Yeah, put the cookies in the oven, I call dibs on the first shower.”

Gabriel smiles at him as he slides the baking sheet onto the top rack of the oven, and Dean rolls his eyes before disappearing back into the hallway. Sam nods awkwardly several times and then sprints toward the bathroom before he can embarrass himself further.

\--

**December 17 th**

Sam needs a hunt. Sam needs to get the hell away from Gabriel before he makes a mistake, like shoving him against a wall, pinning him there, and kissing the living _shit_ out of him.

So he finds a hunt for himself. And for Dean. Cas if he wants to. And not Gabe, because if he gets stuck in a room (or a car, or a motel, or a diner, or a…) with Gabe again he isn’t going to be able to restrain himself.

He ends up running through a big emptyish building at 11pm trying to figure out where the fuck these vamps have tied up his brother. Eventually he kicks down a door and finds Dean leaning against a wall swinging his blade in lazy circles and grinning. Gabriel’s standing in the middle of the room looking slightly spent but otherwise completely fine surrounded by a huge circle of corpses, and Cas is watching Dean worriedly.

“Heya Sammy,” Dean says. “Nice’a ya to drop in. Missed the party.”

Sam fights the urge to stick out his tongue. “You suck,” he tells his brother.

So. Hunting is out.

\--

**December 20 th**

They set up an assembly line. All the presents for each person are put into that person’s bedroom, and then each person goes around to everyone else’s bedrooms to wrap their presents for each other.

It’s all very complicated and it takes the whole day, but Sam and Gabriel end up talking and laughing as they wrap their gifts for Dean and Cas and Cas, Dean, and Sam have a wrapping-paper fight while they all wrap their gifts for Gabriel. All in all, it ends pretty well.

That night, they all get drunk on heavily spiked eggnog and sing carols together and pass out in various states of undress in the living room together as _While You Were Sleeping_ plays quietly on the TV behind them.

\--

**December 24 th**

It’s Gabriel jumping on his bed this time.

Sam buries his face deeper into the pillow and grabs the archangel by the ribcage, dragging him to one side and pinning him under Sam’s own long limbs.

“You, my good sir,” he announces without moving his face (which means his words are slightly muffled by his pillow), “are an asshole. For waking me up at seven in the am on Christmas Eve when you _know_ I like to sleep in. For your transgression, you are now trapped.”

Gabriel laughs heartily and squirms, but doesn’t fight too hard, just kinda wriggles in the sheets until they’re suddenly lying practically chest-to-chest, basically _cuddling_ , and oh. Shit. Right.

Sam had almost forgotten that that was the reason he was avoiding Gabe in the first place.

He smiles a little awkwardly and pulls away from him, trying not to look like he’s disappointed. He almost misses the way that Gabriel’s expression slams shut and most certainly does _not_ miss the way his eyes follow him sadly as he stands up and walks over to his closet. “Well, congrats,” he says as cheerfully as he can. “You got me. I’m up. What did you want?”

He grabs a tank and a flannel and pulls them on over his bare chest, turning to look at Gabriel expectantly. The archangel just shrugs at him, and Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“You’re tellin’ me that you woke me up for no reason?”

Gabriel nods, smirking widely now.

“I’m gonna get you, you son of a bitch,” Sam mutters, slipping his left arm through the flannel and then jumping onto the bed, on top of Gabriel, trapping him there with his whole body.

Gabriel is basically _shrieking_ with laughter and Sam’s smiling genuinely because he always forgets how much fun they have together, and he swears to himself he’ll never avoid Gabriel again because it never gets him anywhere. All it does is make him miserable.

They roll around on Sam’s bed, wrestling and play fighting, and Sam’s still in his pajama pants and neither of them cares. Somehow it devolves into a tickle fight, because Gabriel’s always brought out the most childlike parts of Sam, and they’re both screaming by the time the person in the doorway clears his throat.

They freeze.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam mutters, trying to hide his face. Gabriel shoves his shoulder, forcing him to look up at his brother, who’s watching him with amusement concealed not at all.

“Havin’ fun, Sammy?” he asks. Sam doesn’t answer. He just stands up, off the bed, and brushes off his clothes.

“What’s up?”

“Cas bought _burgers_. For _breakfast._ ” Dean seems extremely excited about this prospect. Sam laughs.

“Let me guess. He also bought you pie, your favorite pie, because he knows your simplistic, animal brain like the back of his hand and loves you more than anything in the universe. Right?”

Dean nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! Now c’mon, there’s somethin’ for everyone.”

Sam rolls his eyes fondly before following his brother out of his room, but he does feel guilty for leaving Gabriel there. However, Gabe jumps up and follows him instantly, so he doesn’t feel _too_ bad.

His is a veggie burger with lettuce and tomato slices and cheese etc. etc. It’s exactly his kind of thing, and he smiles at and hugs Cas before he digs into it. Considering their family and the lives they’ve led, he doesn’t even think it’s weird to be eating burgers for breakfast anymore.

After breakfast, they all chill in the living room for a while. People say ‘evil never rests’, but apparently it does, at least for Christmas. Phineas and Ferb _lied_ to Sam!

It starts snowing around 3pm, and Sam suppresses his groan when he sees it, because he knows Gabriel will go into full-on child mode and want to play in it, and he also knows that the stupid archangel will be so adorable that he’ll submit without complaint because he can never deny him anything.

And surely enough, Gabriel glances out the window, sees the white powder beginning to dust the streets, and grins wide enough to light up an entire city block. He turns to Dean, who’s also smiling huge, and Cas, who looks indifferent, and finally Sam, who forces enthusiasm he wouldn’t fake for anyone else because it’s _Gabriel_ , and he just can’t.

Gabriel snaps them all up winter coats and gloves and hats and scarves until they’re wrapped so tightly that they’re barely mobile and they make their way out into the snow, and it’s immediately an Angels VS. Winchesters all-out no-hold-barred snowball fight. And somehow the fake enthusiasm becomes genuine, and Sam laughs with the rest of them and builds Dean a big mound of ice to hide behind and dumps snow down the back of Cas’ coat and hits Gabe in the crotch with a snowball. (He doesn’t feel it, immortal archangelic bastard.)

It takes them two hours to finally wear themselves out, and they go back inside for hot chocolate with (in Gabriel’s case) far too much whipped cream and definitely too many marshmallows. Dean cooks them up a nice, big-ass Christmas Eve dinner, promises even more on Christmas Day, and they eat together in the dining room like a real family, surrounded by candles and a fire crackling in the hearth.

(Cas insisted on both.)

After dinner they curl up on the couches again, and this time Gabe isn’t even _trying_ to hide how clingy he is. He’s in dog mode now, jumping all over Sam and not even caring what Sam thinks of it. Dean and Cas are cuddling in the other armchair like the sickeningly adorable couple they are, but Gabriel can’t seem to stop moving. One minute he’s in Sam’s lap, the next he’s on his shoulders, then he’s laying across the whole couch with his head on Sam’s thighs.

(Sam doesn’t mind, and he hates that he doesn’t mind.)

Sam leaves the room before the end of act one of _Die Hard_ because he knows if he stays he’s going to do something wrong.

\--

**December 25 th**

It’s Christmas morning, and Sam wakes up to _White Christmas_ from- wait, is Cas _singing_?

He pulls on a pair of pajama pants and makes it halfway down the stairs before he nearly falls over, because Dean and Cas are singing a duet in the kitchen as they make the coffee cake, dancing together like fucking dorks and smiling softly at each other. Dean laughs at Cas at regular intervals and readjusts to show him how to do something, be it ‘the note is here’ or ‘no, the steps are like this’ or ‘hold the spoon like that’.

They’re so in love, and Sam is… Sam is jealous. He’s man enough to admit it. He wants that for himself, and he’ll probably never get it, because he’s a coward.

But he’s happy for them, too, because they deserve it after everything that’s happened to them.

They finish the coffee cake. Sam gets Gabriel up and makes alcoholic eggnog because that’s what they all need at 10am on Christmas morning. And then they do gifts.

Dean gets a lot of records and cassette tapes and DVDs of various things. Sam gets books upon books upon books, some books he asked for and a lot he didn’t but wanted anyway. Cas gets a ‘How to Be Human’ starter kit from both Sam and Dean, as well as a promise ring from Dean (goddammit, those two are too cute) and a portable DVD player from Sam, plus something special from Gabe he says he’ll give him later. Gabriel gets a photo album from Sam, because he said he wanted one. He claims to love it. He gets chocolate-covered cherries from Cas, and when he runs into the kitchen to put them into the fridge, Dean stops him on his way back.

“What’s up?” he asks, and Dean is quite obviously fighting back his smirk as he replies.

“Sammy, couldja go stand next to him?”

Sam is supposed to be the smart one. Sam is supposed to be the one who figures it all out and is always one step ahead… it’s Christmas, and he’s with his family, and there hasn’t been a case in a while, and everything feels too peaceful. He’s off his game.

So he walks right into the trap – literally, he supposes. He goes over to stand next to Gabriel, and when he turns back around, Cas has already left the room.

“My gift to Gabe is really a gift to you both,” Dean tells them. “Look up,” is all he adds before he disappears.

Sam and Gabriel look at each other dubiously before craning their necks to figure out what he’s talking about and-

Oh.

In the doorway, hanging from the frame above them, are a few green leaves. Sam cringes internally and wants to punch his brother in the face. And then he looks at Gabe.

Gabe looks… different than he has in a while. He looks more confident, more sure of himself, and Sam hadn’t thought that was possible, but apparently he is. “Samsquatch,” he says firmly, “if you’re gonna kiss me, then just kiss me already.”

So Sam does.

And when he has an archangel’s legs wrapped around his waist and an archangel’s hands in his hair and an archangel’s tongue practically shoving its way down his throat, he thinks maybe he won’t punch his brother in the face the next time he sees him, after all.

He’ll probably just punch him in the arm.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Sabriel Secret Santa event. Minimum word count was 2k. I made it to 2k around December 10th (which was my birthday... by the way...) and then stopped writing for like three days, and then I wrote two and a half thousand more words between the 16th and 18th. I'm either extremely pathetic or extremely awesome. Not sure which, though.
> 
> Love,  
> -Dean


End file.
